


Mirror on the Wall

by little Alex (litalex)



Category: Angel: the Series, Broken Hearts Club (2000)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-11-12
Updated: 2000-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:29:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litalex/pseuds/little%20Alex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: Neither boy is mine. Lindsey McDonald belongs to Joss<br/>Whedon, David Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy, WB, 20th Century Fox, and various<br/>people and companies that I can't remember. Idaho Guy belongs to Greg<br/>Berlanti, director and screenwriter, Banner Entertainment, Meanwhile<br/>Films, and Sony Pictures Classics. Lucky Bastards.</p>
<p>Spoiler: Everything and anything in season one of AtS; none in BHC, you<br/>just need to know the existence of the man</p>
<p>Story Notes: Written in IRC, not beta'd. And just to make it clear,<br/>Angel chopped off Lindsey's right hand.</p>
<p>Personal Notes: Charles and Joey double dared me; it's all their fault.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Mirror on the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Neither boy is mine. Lindsey McDonald belongs to Joss  
> Whedon, David Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy, WB, 20th Century Fox, and various  
> people and companies that I can't remember. Idaho Guy belongs to Greg  
> Berlanti, director and screenwriter, Banner Entertainment, Meanwhile  
> Films, and Sony Pictures Classics. Lucky Bastards.
> 
> Spoiler: Everything and anything in season one of AtS; none in BHC, you  
> just need to know the existence of the man
> 
> Story Notes: Written in IRC, not beta'd. And just to make it clear,  
> Angel chopped off Lindsey's right hand.
> 
> Personal Notes: Charles and Joey double dared me; it's all their fault.

Newly made junior partner of Wolfram and Hart -- one of the most  
influential law firms in the country, if not the world -- Lindsey  
McDonald should have been happy beyond words. He should have been  
dancing in the midst of the crowd there with his clothes half off  
and all the boys ogling him. Instead, he just sat on his stool,  
nursing his tumbler of single malt Scotch.

Then again, he had been doing that quite a lot lately, had he not?  
For what else could he do in this world so keen on physical  
appearance? The moment the clothes came off, their eyes would widen  
and they would blush, muttering one excuse or another and then  
running out of Lindsey's apartment. Lindsey would rather that they  
had stood their ground and rejected him flat out -- the pain and  
humiliation would have been less.

Tonight, however, maybe, just maybe, he could find someone who would  
not run. Oh, he could have gone to the hustlers on the streets, or  
even called an escort. He knew that -- of course he did -- but,  
again, he could not bear the humiliation. He, whom everyone had been  
chasing, who had rejected so many men without so much as a glance,  
reduced to picking up hustlers.

Oh, yes, Angel had done Lindsey a grave disservice indeed.

He nodded at the bartender and the bear of a man, in full leather  
outfit, poured Lindsey another finger of Laphroaig. Lindsey downed  
the alcohol quickly and grimaced slightly, the warmth of the liquid  
sliding down. God, this was just so much better and smoother than  
what he used to get drunk on -- mainly something like, oh, Southern  
Comfort. "You might as well give me the whole bottle, Brett,"  
Lindsey said loudly and clearly, shaking his head a little. Brett  
frowned at Lindsey for a half minute but finally acquiesced.

Lindsey flashed the leather man his best pretty boy smile, thankful  
that Brett was still indulging him. Their one-night-stand -- four?  
\-- five years ago still counted for something, it seemed. Lindsey  
had been young, so very young and naive then, and went home with  
Brett for some kinky experience. Who would have guessed, the leather  
man was as vanilla as the future productive and upstanding members  
of society in Hastings; went for missionary style, even.

It was all right, however, since Lindsey got himself an older man  
who would look after him -- not financially, of course not -- but on  
days like these, when he was drunk enough to fall off the damn  
stool, there would be Brett, taking care of him. And tonight, with  
its humid and warm breeze, was definitely one of those nights.

Then a strong back in a green tank top caught Lindsey's eye --  
perfectly muscled, not too much bulk, but just enough definition.  
Lindsey shook his head, telling himself that no, the owner of the  
back would run away like the rest, and picked up his glass again.  
The man then turned around to face his companion and Lindsey blinked  
rapidly for several times.

For one long moment, Lindsey's alcohol-fogged brain could not place  
where he had seen that shockingly familiar face before. Then the  
realization slammed through him and cleared away all the mist. Good  
God! That was his very own face there -- the strong jaw, the  
stylishly floppy hair, the deep blue eyes, and most especially the  
arrogant smile. Lindsey licked his suddenly dry lips. Oh, what a  
kick; that ultimate narcissistic fantasy; now he did not have to  
jerk off in front of the mirror.

With this surreal coincidence, maybe the young man would not run.  
Lindsey raked his gaze down the muscular body again -- oh, yes. He  
picked up his drink and sauntered over to the guy, who was talking  
to someone, but that particular someone hardly mattered now. The gym  
bunny did not notice Lindsey's movements at first, but immediately  
turned his head when the lawyer draped an arm over the enticingly  
broad shoulders. After the closer look, Lindsey realized that the  
handsome boy was not an exact replica but a much younger version of  
himself.

Less than a second had passed as the thought flittered across  
Lindsey's mind, and the younger man, annoyance clear in his small  
but deep eyes, opened his mouth, probably to send Lindsey off, but  
immediately paused. No doubt the kid found a mirror image quite  
shocking, too. Then the 'O' of the boy's mouth turned into a smile  
and the original conversation partner disappeared. Turning toward  
Lindsey, the young man gave the lawyer the typical once over. His  
prosthetic hand in his pocket, Lindsey maintained his slouch and  
enjoyed the scrutiny. The smile morphed into a smirk and the kid  
kissed Lindsey full on the mouth.

Lindsey kissed the boy back, employing all he knew. A minute or two  
later, Lindsey finally pulled back and whispered, "I've got  
something to tell you." He had to put everything onto the table  
before any more advances this time. He could not bear being rejected  
inside his own home again, by himself, no less.

The younger man simply nodded and waited.

His mouth still near the kid's ear, Lindsey said just over the  
music, "I lost my hand in a car accident. What I have now is a  
prosthetic." He took a half step back so that he could look into the  
boy's face.

The young man merely blinked and, after a few seconds of frowning,  
shrugged. He then kissed Lindsey again.

Lindsey grinned against the boy's mouth and slid his arms around the  
muscular body. He had never thought that the moment of crisis would  
pass so easily. Another minute of hungry kisses later, Lindsey broke  
the embrace again but kept his hands on the younger man's waist.  
"One more thing," he whispered against the kid's mouth.

The boy groaned. "What now? Don't tell me you've lost another  
appendage. That I can't shrug off."

Lindsey laughed. "No. Just where?"

The smile snaked back onto the firm, soft lips and the young man  
stroked the lapel of Lindsey's Versace suit. "Your apartment should  
be good, if it matches your clothes."

Lindsey dropped another kiss onto the kid's mouth, ran his hand  
through the boy's hair and down the well-muscled arm, and then took  
the younger man's hand. He quickly led the other man through the  
maze of masculine bodies and into the parking lot. They slipped into  
Lindsey's black Jaguar convertible and the lawyer drove rather  
recklessly home, the kid's head on his lap all through L.A.'s  
brightly lit streets. Lindsey was frankly and thoroughly amazed that  
none of the cops stopped them.

They were just inside the door when the boy blushed. Lindsey almost  
growled. God, no; please no. 'Don't you dare,' Lindsey almost yelled  
aloud. 'I told you beforehand. You should have said no then!'

The young man seemed able to read Lindsey's thoughts, for he  
immediately said, "Oh, no, I just want to ask if you mind topping  
me." He flashed another pretty smirk. "I know I don't look much like  
a bottom and you lawyer types always like being punished, but--"

This time Lindsey just clapped his hands onto the kid's shoulders  
and laughed heartily. This one was a treat, an absolutely treat.  
Capturing the half swollen lips again, Lindsey maneuvered the boy's  
legs around his waist and carried the younger man into his bedroom.  
The weight almost too much for him, Lindsey threw the kid into his  
bed and pounced.

An "Oof!" escaped from the boy as Lindsey landed on him. "Watch it!"  
the young man admonished with a chortle.

Lindsey made some non-committal noise as an answer and bent down to  
lick the boy's collarbone. The resilient and silky skin was just a  
bit wet and salty, the kid himself beautiful, simply beautiful --  
and to think that Lindsey was not even being vain. Lindsey helped  
the younger man take off his tank top and stroked a hand down the  
well-developed chest. There the differences emerged. As expected,  
the boy was considerably more muscular than Lindsey, who was usually  
in his office or a courtroom. Oh, Lindsey went to the gym quite  
frequently, too, but gym bunnies like the young man right in front  
of him ate, slept, and breathed the gym and the lawyer simply did  
not have the time to do the same.

Laughing softly at himself, Lindsey took off the kid's shorts and  
briefs at the same time and whistled silently. It certainly looked  
exactly the same. For an insane moment, Lindsey was tempted to take  
measurements, but abandoned the notion quickly enough. Now *that*  
would have been tacky beyond belief and Lindsey was anything but  
tacky. The younger man was now gently tugging on Lindsey's suit  
jacket and the lawyer relinquished control of his clothing to the kid.

The boy worked from bottom up and soon, they were both naked except  
for Lindsey's prosthetic. The young man's hands hovered in the air  
for a few seconds, their owner's eyes asking for permission, and  
Lindsey nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. Gently, almost  
tenderly, the kid unbuckled the leather straps and put the plastic  
limb onto the nightstand. Lindsey watched it for the longest time  
before he felt a warm wetness on his stump.

His head sharply turned, Lindsey stared now at the boy, who was  
licking the hideously shaped flesh without the slightest trace of  
revulsion. Lindsey did not know if he wanted to cry or laugh  
hysterically. Neither, if he had any say in this.

The younger man looked up, his eyes clear, without emotions but also  
without judgment. "Does it hurt?" he asked, almost innocently.

"Not anymore," Lindsey murmured and guided the kid's mouth back to  
his own again. For the briefest second, Lindsey knew without doubt  
that if cutting off the boy's hand would give Lindsey back his  
again, he would have done it without so much as a blink. And that  
was just so horridly wrong and terrifyingly evil that Lindsey  
needed, yes, needed the taste of the beautiful young man to erase  
that thought completely away from his mind.

Breaking the kiss slowly, he placed his left hand on the boy's  
shoulder and looked down. His hand slid down to touch both their  
cocks and, stroking the two columns of flesh simultaneously, he  
studied the image for a few moments. Oh, yes, they looked and felt  
exactly the same and Lindsey's cock hardened even more. Glancing  
back up, Lindsey met the gaze of his doppelganger and the two young  
men grinned at each other.

Lindsey vaguely remembered the boy's saying something about topping  
and attacked the thick but graceful neck. The younger man's hands  
stroking his back, Lindsey sucked a necklace of hickeys around the  
kid's neck, each new mark eliciting gasps and long moans. Lindsey  
then bit gently and the boy ground out an expected, "God, yes!" An  
image of two random vampires having sex suddenly flashed in  
Lindsey's mind and a wry smile graced his lips. Lindsey licked back  
up to an ear and scraped his teeth across the earlobe, causing  
another bout of whimpers, and the younger man tightened his hold on  
Lindsey.

Almost snorting, Lindsey only kissed the tip of the kid's nose and  
then mouth, and the boy returned the kiss enthusiastically. Lindsey  
grinned again. The young man was completely lovely and reminded  
Lindsey so much of his Hastings self, literally. Lindsey shook his  
head slightly and broke the kiss. Softly clasping his hand onto the  
kid's face, Lindsey propped himself up on his elbows and simply  
looked, letting the amazement soak in.

The boy's eyes were serious for a change and the familiar face held  
the same solemn expression that Lindsey had seen so many times in a  
mirror. The coincidence was thoroughly mind blowing and Lindsey felt  
like bolting, knowing that he would never do so. This was a chance  
of a lifetime experience and Lindsey was hardly going to waste it.  
The younger man would be gone the next day like a wisp of mist and  
Lindsey thought that he should take a photograph just to prove to  
himself that it did happen. Yes, a photograph would be perfect; no,  
better yet, a video tape.

He flashed the kid their trademark smile. "You don't mind if I tape  
this, right?"

The boy abruptly sat up and opened his mouth, but stopped before any  
sound was uttered. After a moment of obviously serious thought, the  
young man nodded. "Of course not. Go on."

His expression now also somber, Lindsey set up the video camera  
swiftly and jumped back into bed. He cupped the boy's face and  
dropped a short kiss onto those luscious lips. This was insane, all  
right, and getting more so by the second, but no matter, for Lindsey  
was *so* going through with it. Watching that beatific smile,  
Lindsey straddled the younger man's hips and stroked his hand down  
the bewitchingly solid chest again. God, this could make a man's  
knees weak, and Lindsey's were definitely weak.

Bending down once more, Lindsey captured a nipple with his mouth. He  
licked and sucked expertly, enjoying the moans that the kid was  
panting out, and attempted an experimental bite. Receiving a  
startled yelp, Lindsey was minimally contrite and began to let go in  
order to apologize. The boy growled out a, "Don't stop!" and Lindsey  
had to let go anyway to laugh. This man was just amazing and Lindsey  
was most certainly narcissistic.

He moved onto the other hardened bit of protruding flesh and  
repeated the process, receiving pretty much the same moans and  
whimpers. Finally finished with the pebbled nubs, Lindsey licked  
across to the sternum and lightly bit the flesh there. This time, it  
earned him a breathless laugh.

"That really tickles," the kid informed Lindsey with utter seriousness.

Lindsey smirked and took on the ribs instead, which caused quite a  
number of giggles. Lindsey almost laughed in response, but picked up  
the boy's left hand and sucked in the left index finger. Of all the  
things he expected from gym bunnies, giggles certainly were not one  
of them, especially since Lindsey would never allow himself such  
undignified sounds. And yes, Lindsey completely knew that he was  
absolutely full of it, thank you very much.

The young man eventually pulled out his finger and tipped Lindsey's  
chin. "I want you to fuck me now."

An eyebrow artfully quirked, Lindsey cocked his head minutely and  
studied his own handsome face. The kid's expression slowly turned  
from confidence into the slightest bit of anger and confusion, and  
Lindsey grinned.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll fuck you so good that you'll be begging for  
more."

"God, I hope so." The returning smile was as mischievous as  
Lindsey's own.

Lindsey fished out the tube of lubricant from under his pillow and  
threw it across the short distance into the boy's hands. The  
obviously puzzled young man glanced at the tube and then looked back  
at Lindsey.

Lindsey sighed and licked his lips. "I want you to prepare yourself  
for me."

The kid snorted and rolled his eyes, but sat up and spread himself  
nonetheless. Eyes on Lindsey the whole time, he did exactly as the  
older man told him. Then the blue eyes abruptly closed and the mouth  
slackened, and Lindsey was absolutely fascinated. This was the very  
first time he had ever seen that particular expression on this face,  
for Lindsey had never bottomed in his whole life. And if things went  
his way, this would also be the last time he would ever see that  
expression, too, beautiful though the image might be.

Briefly in his mind's eye flashed the vision of the boy in the  
leather restraints hidden just under the mattress, but Lindsey  
discarded that idea readily. Fucking himself would be weird enough,  
but whipping himself would be -- Lindsey barked a silent laugh --  
the ultimate sadomasochistic experience, no? Tempting, but no, for  
Lindsey could not stand seeing himself bound in any way. That face  
and body should be forever free: limitless, where Lindsey's life was  
set on only one path, boundless, where Lindsey was definitely and  
intimately tied to Wolfram and Hart.

Lindsey stopped his own thoughts just before they turned into true  
envy. This was a kid he was talking about, young and carefree, yes,  
but also young and stupid.

He must have been looking at the young man for too long, for the boy  
pressed in and touched his knuckles to Lindsey's cheek. "I know we  
look beautiful, hon, but could you do more than just stare? Like,  
oh, fucking me?"

Softly growling, Lindsey grabbed the young man and flipped him over.  
A condom hastily but safely rolled on, he shoved his cock into the  
kid without further ado. 'Oh, fuck! That's it; that's exactly it,'  
Lindsey's mind whimpered, though he himself merely sobbed out a  
breath. God, he could sell his soul for this: so smooth, just so  
smooth and tight and hot and Lindsey was sinking right in. Then he  
remembered that he had already sold his soul to Wolfram and Hart and  
merely snorted.

At last Lindsey noticed the boy's impatient mutters and licked the  
smooth bit of sweaty skin at the young man's nape. Abandoning it  
after another light bite, he ignored the disappointed groan and  
coaxed the kid onto all fours. His hand on the boy's left hip, he  
kneeled up and, slow and deep, pushed again and again into the  
beautiful body. After a few minutes, he spread the younger man's  
legs further apart with his knees and quickened his pace just the  
slightest. He could last hours this way, but tomorrow was Monday and  
Lindsey debated with himself the wisdom of wasting valuable sleep  
time on sex.

Then again, this was not merely sex, was it? After all, it was not  
every day that you get to fuck yourself, literally. He blinked and  
then sighed again. Ah, well. His knees steadying the lightly shaking  
body in front of him, Lindsey snaked his hand under the young man's  
abdomen and found the kid's erection, still firm and hard as if  
Lindsey had been sucking on it instead of fucking that gorgeous ass.  
Grinning, Lindsey absent-mindedly noted the breathless moan as his  
hand touched the boy's cock and closed his fist gently around it.

Now the one moan turned into a series of moans and pants, and  
Lindsey simply thrust a little deeper. What was that the younger man  
was trying to say? Lindsey could not decipher, but he doubted that  
it really mattered at this point. It was not as if the kid could  
recite Shakespearean sonnets during sex, though one of Lindsey's sex  
partners could and did. Now *that* one was quite fun, for each kiss  
would bring on one random line and Lindsey had almost learned all  
the lines by the time they finished.

Lindsey exhaled slowly and finally realized that the boy was only  
panting something akin to, "Harder; faster." Oh, that Lindsey could  
follow and he proceeded to do so exactly. The young man's words  
faded into harsh sobs of breath while Lindsey hummed his favorite  
bars from one of Chopin's Nocturnes, specifically Br. 108. The two  
sounds clashed strongly in the air, but meshed into an even more  
beautiful piece of music in Lindsey's brain.

Far too soon, Lindsey could feel his climax draw near and exhaled a  
slightly disappointed sigh. Too bad, he had hoped to fuck the kid  
longer. He stopped the movements of his hand and, again, ignored the  
boy's frustrated mutters. His palm now on the small of the younger  
man's back, he followed through with his last thrusts and came  
violently into the kid's body. Marvelous, truly marvelous, and one  
last spurt and then he was finished. With the boy's help, he rolled  
the young man back onto his back and grinned at the kid's glare.

He tipped the boy's chin and bent down to lick away the drop of  
sweat. His lips pressing against the soft mouth, he opened it with  
his tongue, the younger man's resolve finally melting. Just as  
abruptly, he dived down to the kid's still hard cock and sucked the  
whole length down. Noting the boy's startled gasp, Lindsey only  
sucked harder and was soon rewarded with a flood of semen down his  
throat. There, they had both come and the younger man ought to be  
happy now. Lindsey turned over onto his back and mused on what color  
he should next paint his ceiling.

The kid rolled on top of Lindsey and they lay exactly like that for  
minutes, limbs entwined and both men obviously exhausted. Lindsey  
eventually propped himself up on his elbows and pressed another kiss  
onto the boy's lips. "Stay the night."

The young man smiled back, almost sweetly. "I can't. I have to meet  
up with my boyfriend."

Lindsey raised an eyebrow, but did not protest. The kid did not know  
what he was missing; not Lindsey's loss.

The boy slipped off the bed and dressed quickly, a smile still on  
his lips. When he was fully clothed again, he walked around to  
Lindsey's side of the bed and kissed the older man. Lindsey wrapped  
an arm around the graceful neck and slowly sat up as the handsome  
young man straightened his spine.

Then Lindsey wrestled the kid into his lap. "Come on. Stay."

The boy frowned at Lindsey for a whole minute before replying, "Okay."

Lindsey grinned and watched the younger man climb back under the  
blankets. The kid put his head on Lindsey's shoulder and the lawyer  
put his arms around the boy. They drifted off to sleep and when  
Lindsey blinked his eyes open the next morning, the young man was  
practically clinging to him. Lindsey studied the younger version of  
himself and the idea he had so ruthlessly suppressed last night  
stabbed at his heart just as strongly.

'Imagine, Linds, just imagine,' the voice inside murmured. 'If you  
dragged the boy to the company infirmary, they could finish the  
operation under an hour and you will be whole and complete again!  
Imagine, your hand yours again!' But, God, how could he? How could  
he! Ruin this perfect and beautiful example of what Lindsey would  
have been if not recruited by Wolfram and Hart? Never. Untainted and  
pure, the boy was his innocence and Lindsey could never destroy it  
again.

He hastily extracted himself from the embrace and walked swiftly  
into the bathroom. After a long shower, he dressed and put back on  
his prosthetic while inside his bathroom and stared at his own  
reflection. No, Linds; *no*. He forced a smile at the seemingly  
young and fresh face and strolled back out. The younger man was  
already dressed and ready to go, flashing a happy smile at Lindsey.  
They kissed again, lingeringly.

"I really have to go this time," the kid murmured against Lindsey's  
lips.

Lindsey broke the kiss and levered himself onto the granite kitchen  
counter. "See you around."

"Yeah." Still smiling, the boy waved goodbye and then was gone.

Lindsey stretched, jumping back down onto the ground, and put on his  
Armani suit jacket. He gracefully sank down into a chair and  
finished his strawberry-spread bagel. His feet on the chair, he  
sipped his Kona coffee and mused over the fact that he still did not  
know the young man's name. Too bad: the kid was such a treat.

/~~finis~~/


End file.
